New Story: The Party

It was to be a slightly different take on a party and my first ever fetish party.

The local fetish club were having a ‘full on rubber party’ so I took a giant leap into the unknown and decided to buy my tickets.  When I went to the website and went to purchase my ticket there was quite a lot to read before hand. It turns out this was to be a controlled party with a difference.

The idea was as follows. When you buy the ticket you had to fill in a basic profile – height, weight, body build, dislikes etc which was key for the next part.  The day before the party you had to bring a bag / box of clothes to the venue, with a sheet printed off from the website showing details of the ideal weight and height of the person the gear would fit.  Then on the day of the party, when you turned up you would be handed a box which had your outfit in for the night. You would have no control over what you would be wearing. The club would control the number of guests and match up heights and weights to make sure everybody was catered for.

I thought about he idea long and hard. I did not have that much gear and was quite protective of it – but I thought it would be a thrill to see somebody else wearing what I told them, plus I could try on someone else’s gear.

After a while, I just decided to go for it, completing the forms online and paying my money.

My mind then turned to what to offer somebody to wear. Luckily the website had photos of all sorts of hot guys in various rubber outfits that gave me plenty of ideas. Some of the outfits were extreme, some basic. How far would I go in terms of an outfit I would offer up. I had some basic things, but decided I would follow the idea – what would I love to see on somebody else?  So – with that in mind, I packed some leather boots, black socks, full rubber catsuit (no hands, feet or hood though) which had a codpiece crotch. I was going to stop there but I decided to throw in something outrageous. What if I put in my favourite hood. This hood had a back zip, plastic eye inserts and a full penis shaped gag inside the hood. If I put this in would the person wear it. The thought of seeing that person in the club knowing he was chewing on the same lump of rubber that had kept me happily amused for countless hours was quite a thrill. I could do this, couldn’t I.

I re-read the rules of the outfits you had to supply and was pushed into it when I read the line “The option not to wear an item in the box is not available – all items must be worn as intended’. That was it – and I threw my hood into the mix. To make an even better twist I packed one small padlock – no key – that way he would have to lock the hood on, with me being the guy who lets him out at the end of the night. Who knows, if he is good looking enough maybe we will hit it off.  That was decided. The next night my box was registered with the club and I went to sleep wondering what would happen the next night and how good looking the stud would be wearing my gear.

The butterflies in my stomach the next night were incredible. I was stripped off staring at my box in one of the clubs changing rooms. This was a baptism of fire. My first fetish event. My first time experiencing fetish for real outside of my bedroom and computer screen.  The nerves were incredible, but the thrill was building as I pulled the box lid off and revealed my outfit.

The box was packed with the first items to be worn at hand first. And daunting it was. Staring me right in the face was a butt plug. OK – not the biggest but a new experience for me. A sachet of lube was provided and I took both and started the gearing up process.  With the butt plug well lubed, I bent over and eased it in. The lube did a fantastic job and as I relaxed, it popped into place. Standing back up I felt the impact of the plug inside and to be honest, it felt weird but also felt good.

The next item was a full suit. This suit was thicker rubber than I could ever afford. Slightly more like a drysuit thickness, this suit had feet, gloves and a hood. I had a closer inspection of the hood and saw it was very similar to my favourite hood. It had perspex plastic eye coverings and also a built in gag. Looks like if I wanted to proceed into the party I was going to be in a similar situation to the person wearing my gear. That got me hard straight away, and I started to get my legs into the suit.  The rubber was wonderfully cold, but did not stick as I pulled it up my legs. It was slightly lubricated but only just the right amount to help me get the suit on.

Moments later as my hands were encased in black rubber, I prepared myself for the hood. Easing the gag into position, I pulled the hood down on my head and started to pull the zip down to meet the zip at the back that was now between my shoulders having pulled it up from the backside.  The fit was spectacular. The rubber suit was not skin tight but slightly baggier, which I loved. It was certainly having the desired effect on me as I was very tempted to open the front zip and masturbate there and then.

Knowing how horny I was it was quite a challenge to resist but I did and went back to the box. There was only one more item left but this was quite a shock.   Chains connecting leather cuffs and collars were pulled out from the box, along with five padlocks. I did not even think twice as I was so absorbed in the moment and loving the rubber and bondage to come that I straight away bent down and fastened the ankle cuffs in place, padlocking as I went.

As I straightened up, I realised that the night was going to be a slight challenge as there was only six inches of connecting chain between the two ankle cuffs.   I proceeded. Fastening the collar in place, fastening with the padlock I realised I was now locked into this gear until the end of the night when the owner of the gear would give me the padlock.

The wrist cuffs were next. Moments later, my hands were locked into their cuffs, connected by four inches of chain and held around my waist area as the connecting lengths intended. The box was empty.  I was ready.  I handed the now empty box back to the club desk and proceeded to enter the club. There were already quite a few people in the bar area and their outfits ranged from simple (some had suits on, some had separate items of rubber) but I could not see my outfit anywhere yet.

Realising that I would not be drinking that night I lost myself in the heat of the suit. The gag felt wonderful as my mouth was filled with the warm taste of rubber. The suit was warming up and I could feel trickles of sweat running down my back and chest. I sat down and watched the shapes and figures come and go in front of me.  It was some time later that I spotted my outfit. The words spectacular sprung to mind as I could make out that whoever was inside the gear had a great shape. To know that he was chewing on my gag – that almost pushed me over the edge and as I saw him turn and walk away I saw the light bounce off the padlock and realised he was as trapped as I was until I let him out. I had hight hopes for a successful meeting later.

As I sat there I noticed that I was not the one with the most extreme outfits on. There were a few other guys who seemed as trapped as I was. One guy was wearing a full rubber suit, hooded, with a ball gag strapped on his head and padlocked in place. But it was the beautiful rubber straightjacket that had straps dangling everywhere. his arms were crossed at the chest and judging by the number of straps and loops he would find getting out of the jacket almost impossible. He also had leg cuffs on his ankles which restricted his movements even more.

As he walked through the bar area, he was being groped and handled. Many hands stroked his crotch area and as the attention built, you could see him double up as he was experiencing an almighty orgasm.  There were a couple of outfits similar to mine, in terms of full on drysuits and hoods. Luckily for these guys though they did not have the restraints, though I could see that the suits were padlocked shut where the zip pull met a D ring glued intuit he suit.

Quite a few people here were being controlled but then I was doing no different.  I decided I wanted to meet the guy wearing my suit so set about trying to track him down. That meant getting to the other side of the bar. As I did so I was greeted with the same fondling and man-handling I had witnessed before. I was close to climaxing, but held it together as I had plans. It took me an age to get through the bar, but eventually I did and as I emerged I spotted my outfit.

The guy looked so good. In a manner that was very unlike me, I went straight over to him, undid the top two poppers on the codpiece and watched as his penis sprang out from behind the rubber. I could see he was shocked, but as I saw the light pop on in his brain as he realised it was my suit, he thrust his hands towards me and went for the front zipper on the suit. Before we knew what we were doing, we both had each others penis in our hands and were stroking. The guys ate the bar were staring but I did not care as I continued stroking. Moments later we both exploded as the sensations grew too much for us both and we showered each other in spots of cum all over each others rubber.  We spent the next hour or so sitting down at the side together. I guess the plan was to be taking this further. It seemed we had found a friend in each other. I was so excited. Who knows what this may lead to.

With the night drawing to a close, the lights came on and the club owners entered the bar area with all the boxes. This time, we were to take the boxes back to the changing rooms, find any keys needed inside, undress and return the gear into the boxes.  My new friend and I went for our boxes. found the right number and went to the changing rooms.  As I sat down about to undress I tried to take in the full impact of what had happened. After years of living a secret fetish life, I had braved out into the real world and not only that, had an incredible time and found somebody whom I hoped would continue the fun with.

I opened the box.  There was nothing inside. No key.

Thinking that there had been a problem and the key had slipped out I went back to the bar where the club owners were. It seems I was not the only one who had a problem. All the guys I had seen previously who were padlocked into their gear were back at the bar. Their keys were not there either.  There were not many questions being asked as all of us had gags on and were in no position to do much about it.

Then the club owner spoke up. He had organised boxes for four of us and had no intention of letting us out tonight. We were to be guests of his in his private dungeon at the rear of the club. Attendance was none optional. Compliance would result in us being set free in the morning. With that I looked over my shoulder as I saw the figures from the party leave the club. I was led to the back of the club.

The night was now not quite as much fun. I feared what was going to happen.

JB – the early years

It’s a blog – so where else whould I pen thoughts about how things started in a kinky sense for me.

For me, growing up in the UK in the seventies, it was jackets that started things off. Ski jackets, snorkel parkas etc

C&A was full of the great jackets – seventies styled ski jackets – quite simple but very soft and shiny. I used to love shopping for a new one and despite the families lack of cash back then managed to acquire a few to enjoy. I used to love putting the jacket on backwards, as this gave me a huge expanse of the soft material over my chest and if you could do the zip up the back, fasten the neck fasteners then you felt a bit restricted – I guess my first movements towards bondage. Add a hood into the mix and hey presto – the backwards jacket took on a whole new meaning of bondage.

After playing with jackets for a bit I got into tying myself up in my jackets, mostly with the jacket on backwards. I would wait for the folks to depart to go shopping etc then would grab out everythign I needed for a bit of fun. Many a time I had very close escapes as the folks returned back a bit too early and I had a mad dash to free myself and clear up – usually just in time.

I don’t think they knew what I was up to – but who I am kidding – I would not be surprised if they turned around and told me they knew exactly what I was up to.

A few games at school added to my jacket fetish. Playing with a mate one day in the woods, we were both wearing our snorkel parkas when it was suggested we put them on backwards and tie each other up – kind of like a bondage game, but purely innocent. He was a bit nervous so insisted he tied me up first, so I put my snorkel parka on backwards, pulled the hood up, zipped it up all the way and let him tie my hands behind my back. Boy did he do a good job, as I could not free my hands. I really enjoyed the sensation, the darkness, the feel of it. I did not manage to get revenge as we found out it was later than we thought and had to head home. We never did revisit that game.

The web makes me quite jealous as I come across guys into the same thing, but enjoying themselves with others, something I never managed to do until later in life. I was always very self conscious and aware that the feelings I had were not normal and that one day I would grow up and grow out of these perverse feelings. If only I knew then what I knew now. This was before the internet took off and living in a small town did not give me the confidence to approach others and ask if they shared my interests. It took a move to the city and my introduction to the world wide web to seal that.

There are not many websites that have a focus on such interests. It seems the snorkel parka has a following, a couple of sites feature guys wearing ski gear backwards etc – but not many sites to mention.

A few great photographs found recently which show exactly the kind of thing I used to love as a kid – great jackets, shiny materials, hoods up and some bondage thrown in. I wish now, knowing what I do – that I could jump into a time machine and pop back to enjoy that period more fully. Oh well.

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So that’s me – looking back – I can hand on heart say it was the love of these jackets that led onto other things. I used to really love – and still do – the warmth of the jackets – the comfort factor for the bondage and the fact that such an everyday item of clothing could turn into something so kinky and enjoyable. I still hunt out great jackets that I can wear both in public and enjoy at home and have certainly enjoyed the return of the snorkel parka in the UK to mainstream fashion

Good old Detainer

I was looking around flickr the other day and I found some great photos that reminded me of the early experiences I had with my first real fetish shop.

2333042407_a7da5247a4_oDetainer, based in East London was a wonderful shop. They first came to my attention in one of the many fetish magazines you can get with some really amazing artwork. Great cartoon images enticed me in and gave me the impression that this was a shop I had to visit. This was before I got into the internet, as back then ( and not that many years ago ) the internet was not a big thing.

I remember traveling down to London one day. I had my own beat up car and had a few days free, so in the car I jumped and headed down to the capital. This was a big move, as I had yet to experience a fetish shop. I was part scared to death and part excited. Not being gay I wondered if I would have any problems when in the shop. All the crazy thoughts you get when you are young and new to certain things.

Well, with my heart in my mouth and after nearly turning back at the last minute, I ventured into the shop. I remember the smell was amazing. Rubber, and lots of it. The thing that I loved about Detainer was that they seemed to specialise in heavy rubber clothing and also had a great line in waxed material clothing (like the Belstaff jackets etc are made).

2279847681_129ede1f60_oThe staff there were so supportive. Here was this wet behind the ears guy coming in, with no money to actually spend on the things he really wanted, but drooling at the mouth at what was in front of him. I was told I could try anything, which for me at that point in my life (early twenties) was a big deal. Here was the reality to a lot of my fantasies.

2277595861_8f21ea7cec_oI tried on a couple of items, different variations of full suits. I left with the wonderful feeling of having a baptism into the real fetish world I wanted and I knew I would be back many more times, trying most of the stock.

And return I did, many times. My one regret was this was a period of my life where I did not have much money, so spending the couple of hundred pounds on a full rubber suit that my heart desired was out of the question. OK – I parted with small amounts on gas masks, gloves, tshirts etc – but nothing that I really wanted or that Detainer was so good at producing.

The highlights for me were the occasions where I got to try a couple of their straightjackets. The assistant happily strapped me into one of the wax cotton ones, left me for half hour to look around the store and came back to release me, then put me straight into a hooded rubber straightjacket that certainly made me sweat for the next half hour. Complete bliss. Later another visit marked a meeting that came good over the internet with Straightjacketed – and we both headed to the shop and helped each other try the many different styles of straightjackets, followed by a pervy chat in the pub. I am sure the locals must have wondered what we were talking about as we recalled our adventure.

Sadly, Detainer closed down. Just at a time when I had saved money to finally purchase some of the larger items. The shop assistants probably think of me as the kid who tried everything on and bought nothing. Well I was about to come good – honest, but the chance was taken away from me.<

So – what happened to the guys from Detainer – the guys who made the gear, the guys who ran the place. Does anybody know – are they the guys behind the other London stores – or behind one of the many internet shops nowadays.

Their quality of gear was stunning, and I would love to pop back in my time machine and buy the contents of the store.

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